


The Price of Peace

by YumeArashi



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Alternate Canon, Caretaking, Gen, Head Injury, Old Age, Old Injuries, Older Characters, Retirement, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-14
Updated: 2013-03-14
Packaged: 2017-12-05 06:49:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/720084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YumeArashi/pseuds/YumeArashi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Old age catches up with Ezio.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Price of Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Written prior to AC: Revelations, canon-accurate only up to AC: Brotherhood.

Ezio sat by the fire in the luxurious armchair, watching Leonardo work.  The advancing years had done nothing to dull either the artist’s mind or the enthusiasm he brought to each new idea.  Leonardo bustled about the table as energetically as ever, chattering excitedly to himself as he scribbled designs for some new fantastical invention.

Time had not been so kind to the assassin.  The myriad injuries he’d shaken off in his youth had come back to haunt him with a vengeance, and Ezio had long since resigned himself to leaving missions to the new assassins rather than having an active role in the field himself.  Oft-broken bones ached at each hint of ugly weather, his skin was insensible over much of his body from the network of scars he bore, his joints had warped and stiffened from hard use leaping among the rooftops and scaling towers, and his limbs had weakened from little stresses accumulated over the decades - pounding from hard landings, blocked blows, and endless sprinting.  Even his mind was not untouched - his memory slipped sometimes, common words eluded him, familiar faces seemed strange - the result of too many blows to the head over the years.

But he always knew Leonardo, and the artist’s presence never failed to comfort him.  It seemed unfair that Leonardo, seven years older, would seem so much younger than Ezio, but assassin never resented it.  In fact he was glad, hoping secretly that his hard living would end him before he had to watch another loved one die.

When he had first been coaxed by his friends and family to retire, Ezio had refused flatly, ignoring their warnings about age diminishing his performance and putting him in danger.  When he had no longer been able to deny it and had withdrawn from the field, he had resented the lost freedom.  Those around him told him to relax and enjoy his retirement, but after Monteriggioni, he never truly felt secure.  He had learned too hard that ‘happily ever after’ was something that assassins never lived to see.

But months and then years had crept by, and his name and face were forgotten.  There were always new targets, of course, but his once-recruits - now master assassins in their own right - handled things admirably.  He had been bitter at first that the Brotherhood no longer needed him, but in the end he convinced himself that it was better to be forgotten by the world.  He had moved from the assassin’s stronghold to live with Leonardo, disliking the reminders of his violent past and how useless he felt there now. 

Leonardo never saw him as useless, never pitied him for the old wounds that hampered him.  He was good company - working cheerfully on his own whenever Ezio felt the need for quiet companionship, or helping Ezio feel more alive and alert by engaging him in conversation.  The artist had gently overcome Ezio’s pride in refusing to accept help, patiently insisting on helping the assassin bathe or dress until Ezio had accepted the assistance.  Leonardo was never condescending when Ezio forgot things, was understanding when the assassin became frustrated at his occasional problems speaking.  He sympathized with Ezio’s limitations, talking about his own aches and pains of age - though these never seemed to slow him down, Ezio thought fondly. 

It was peace, and if it was not the retirement that Ezio had wistfully pictured in his youth…he willingly paid that price.


End file.
